a story. Part 7.
she left the canvass propped there for an entire day. for awhile she just sat on the couch and looked at its blankness. eventually, the entire room blurred to white and she thought about the spot on her neck that she wanted him to kiss and wondered if he was wearing his pink or red plaid. she missed the feeling of his cheek on days when he forgot to shave. she missed it because even after he left the room, she could still feel the burning on her skin.
she got up and cleared the dishes from their fancy lunch. she washed the crumbs down the sink, stared out the window and accidentally let the water run longer than it needed to. she was crying. it felt strange to miss someone so much. it's not like he had died, she told herself. but, still, she couldn't stop shaking.